


Something to be Thankful For

by SophieFilo16



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Death, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Minor Character Death, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-02 01:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8645419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieFilo16/pseuds/SophieFilo16
Summary: In an AU, Reid's mother died while he was still growing up. His father did not take him in after the death, so he was forced into foster care. No one on the team knows about his past except Hotch and Gideon. Gideon was the only person Reid trusted to talk with about what happened. Except, now Gideon has left, just like his father, just like mother. So, what is Reid to do on Thanksgiving when he doesn't have anything to be thankful for? (Takes place shortly after Gideon leaving. Rossi has not joined the team yet.)[Later chapters may or may not have more cautious material. Rated T, just in case. The genres might change with later chapters.][This story has also been uploaded to ff.net]





	

Spencer, Age 7

“...My word, how mortals take the gods to task! All their afflictions come from us, we hear. And what of their own failings? Greed and folly double the suffering in the lot of man...” Spencer Reid read aloud while lying on his bed. Normally, he would read silently and more quickly. But today, his mother had promised to read to him, which he always looked forward to. The only problem was that his mother wasn't there. So, he would just have to read for her.

“Spencer!” He quickly sat up as he heard his father calling. “Spencer!” William Reid entered the child's bedroom, looking rather annoyed. “Didn't you hear me calling you?” Spencer nodded. “Then why didn't you answer me?!” William snapped.

Spencer scooted back a bit on the bed. “I...I'm sorry,” he muttered as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

William grunted, shaking his head. “What are you doing?”

“I'm reading _The Odyssey_ by Homer.” He held up the book for his father to see.

William walked over and snatched the book. “I don't know why your mother lets you read this stuff. I keep telling her you are too young, but she doesn't listen! She never listens to a word anyone else says!” He shook his head angrily and began to march out of the room.

“Dad!” Spencer spoke up nervously.

William looked at his son, impatiently. “What is it?”

Spencer looked down and softly nibbled on his lip for a moment. “Do...do you know where she is? Mom?”

“ **The hell I do!** ” Spencer made a noise and sunk into himself a bit. William sighed. “Come into the kitchen, Spencer. It's time to eat.”

“But...shouldn't we wait for mom?”

“If we do that, we may very well starve,” he growled. The child looked at him with large, innocent eyes. He sighed again and walked over to the bed, taking a seat. “Look, Spencer, you know how we talked about your mother being sick?” Spencer nodded. “Well, sometimes, she gets lost inside her head, and she forgets about the real world.”

“But if she's lost, shouldn't we try to help her?”

“I've tried a thousand times, Spencer. Your mother doesn't want to get better. She in some sort of denial, thinking it'll all work out just _fine_.”

“So...you've given up on her?”

“No, Spencer. But there's just nothing more I can do for her.”

Spencer frowned and glared at his father. “So if it was me, would you just give up on me, too? Would you leave me all alone and scared and lost?”

“Spencer, that's not the same thing.”

“Yes, it is! She's sick, and we're supposed to help her!” The boy exclaimed with tears in his eyes.

“Don't you think I've been trying?! I try time and time again, Spencer, but it is impossible to help a woman too stubborn to admit that she needs help!”

“But we can--”

“No, Spencer! There is no 'we'. _You_ are a _child_. You shouldn't have to deal with all this **shit**! You're not supposed to be reading damned **Homer** at the age of **seven**!” He waved the book around. “You're supposed to be playing video games, playing outside with friends, looking at action figures, and doing other _normal_ things that _normal_ children do! But your mother...” He shook his head, looking away from Spencer. “She's poisoned you. She's made you into a bookworm who couldn't survive a day on his own! I try to help you, Spencer, but you just cling to _her_ all the damned time!” He turned to his son. “Listen, kid, your mother isn't always going to be around. For all we know, she may never come back! She's not right in the head, and I've done all I can, but I am _tired_ , Spencer. You can't depend on her. You need to learn how to be around other people, not always locked away with your nose in some _book_! You need to start thinking for yourself, not just following whatever your mother says! Because, Spencer, one day your mother is going to _leave_ , and she is **not** going to come back. Not **ever**. And you need to be prepared for that day.”

Spencer stared at his father angrily as tears streaked his face. “You're wrong. She would never leave me.”

“Spencer, I'm telling you the truth so that I can hopefully help you now so it won't be so bad later.” He reached out to touch his son, but Spencer scooted away.

“No. If you _truly_ loved her, you wouldn't doubt her. You may have given up on her, dad, but I won't. I'll _never_ give up on her.”

“Oh, Spencer...”

“Do you love her?”

“What?”

“ **Do you love her?!”**

“...Yes...dearly...”

Spencer sniffled as tears continued to flow. “Then why aren't you looking for her? Why are leaving her to hurt all alone? Why... why would you ever give up on her? Why, daddy?” Spencer's voice broke and he began to sob.

“Spencer...” William said sadly as he wrapped an arm around the boy.

“I...I...” Spencer struggled to speak, choking on his sobs. “I won't...eat... Not.. not until... she...she comes home...”

“Spencer, that could take ages, for all we know.”

“Then...then I won't...eat...until then... No...no matter..how long...it...it takes.” William embraced his son into a full hug and held him as the boy cried into his shirt. “Be...B-B-Because...th...there's no...no point in...in Thanksgiving...if the people...people you are the most...most thankful for...” Spencer's cries increased. “...if they're not even here... There's no...point, daddy...” Spencer released all his tears into his father's shirt, clenching it lightly.

“Oh, Spencer...” William sniffled and held his son more closely. “Okay...” His voice broke, and he quickly cleared his throat so that Spencer wouldn't hear. “We won't eat, then... We'll wait for your mother. As long as it takes...”

Spencer clenched the shirt tighter. “...Thank...you...”

“I suppose if anyone deserves to be given up on, it's me. But Lord knows that woman has given me more chances than I was ever worth.” William lightly pushed Spencer away and held his son's chin up so he could make eye-contact with the boy. “You're right, son,” he said softly as he wiped the tears from Spencer's cheeks. “We don't give up on her. Not ever. We have to be strong. And we have to find her when she is lost. No matter how tired we get, or how many times she loses herself, we can't ever stop looking.” Spencer nodded. “I won't give up on her. I will always fight for the woman I love.”

Spencer sniffled. “Me, too.” William placed a kiss on his forehead.

“So...Homer...” William held up the book, examining the cover. “Do you really understand this stuff?”

Spencer nodded. “Most of it.” He sniffled, wiping his eyes. “Mom...mom was supposed to read to me today. But...she isn't here...” The boy looked down, sadly.

William took a deep breath, his eyes moving from his son to the book and back at his son. “You really shouldn't be reading this at your age...” Spencer bit his lip. William sighed and opened the book. He cleared his throat. “SPEAK, MEMORY—Of the cunning hero,/The wanderer, blown off course time and again/After he plundered Troy’s sacred heights...”

Spencer's head shot up to look at his father. He smiled softly and snuggled against the man as he would normally do to his mother.

“...Speak, Immortal One,/And tell the tale once more in our time...”

His father wasn't as good as his mother, but it was still nice to be read to. Spencer knew his mother would come back soon. And when she did, the three of them would sit down together and have a Thanksgiving dinner. They would just have to be patient. Eventually, she would find her way home. Soon, they could be a family again...

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've never read the Odyssey, so I'm not entirely sure what the appropriate age would be to read it, but I'm sure it is not meant for seven-year-olds.
> 
> I likely will not update this story or any other stories (sorry, to those still waiting for Silent Screams) for a couple of weeks, at least. I have an 8,000 word story to write up just so I can get a bit of cash. And once I'm finished with that assignment, I won't be in the mood to write for a little while, and I may even have another assignment to do. Freelance writing kind of sucks...


End file.
